


The Air You Breathe Is Full of Ghosts

by river_soul



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Pacific Rim AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:47:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27660898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/river_soul/pseuds/river_soul
Summary: Jon/Sansa Pacific Rim AU"I didn’t realize Arya enlisted,” Jon says with a frown and it takes all of Sansa’s restraint not to come back with a cutting remark. He disappeared after Robb died, like a ghost in the night. He probably doesn’t even know about her mother or Theon she realizes.“Arya was desperate for the chance to be like Robb and Dad. Like you,” Sansa tells him and even though it’s the truth, Sansa feels a brief, small scissor of pain pass through her at the grief and regret that overtakes Jon’s face.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 13
Kudos: 110





	The Air You Breathe Is Full of Ghosts

She thinks he looks older, wearier than she expects before she remembers it’s been six years since she saw him last. Six years since Robb died and her mother disappeared into herself. There is a flicker of surprise in his grey eyes when he sees her but otherwise, his face remains impassive. 

The deep thump of the rotor blades makes it difficult for her to hear what Brienne says to him about coming back to pilot the Mark-3 Jaeger, but his gaze strays back to Sansa when they speak. She expected anger, grief, or maybe excitement, anything but this empty, defeated look he wears.

She wonders now if she’s made a mistake and he’s too damaged to come back after what happened with Robb. She and Arya argued with Stannis about it, passionately enough that he sent Arya to the brig after she took a swing at him. He threatened to throw Sansa out of the program after that too, civilian oversight or not. It was only later when she’d come to him with her father’s 10-year-old scotch, untouched since his death that Stannis finally agreed. 

When Brienne turns around her face is unreadable but after a moment Jon falls into step behind her. Sansa feels a wave of relief wash over her until she sees the expression on Jon’s face, the grim line of his mouth and his troubled grey eyes. It reminds her so strongly of her father that she has to look away, to fight that strange wave of nausea that overtakes her.

\--

It’s three days later, in the mess hall when she sees him next. He looks more like she remembers from before, beard trimmed short and standard-issue fatigues. She almost expects Robb to come bounding after him, a cocky grin on his lips but Jon isn’t smiling. He looks uncertain, lost amidst the clatter of people. The polite thing to do would be to invite him to join her but when she recalls that look on his face at the wall, that fear in his grey eyes, she drops her gaze to the paperwork spread out in front of her.

Two press releases need her approval and there's a request from a news outlet to interview some of the pilots. The mess hall isn’t the most conducive place for her work but power fluctuations have forced her out of her office once again. It’s the fourth time this week she’s taken the table at the back for herself. Outside of the odd days Brienne or Arya join her, the others in the Shatterdome tend to give her a wide berth. They are never disrespectful though. The Stark name carries enough weight to keep them polite but Sansa knows they are not her friends.

Arya had fit right in with her raucous laughter and tomboy grace. She was one of them after all, enlisting the morning of her 18th birthday. Even when their mother begged and cried she hadn’t looked back, not once, in her quest to chase the very thing that left her fatherless and without a brother. 

Sansa had stayed as far away from it as she could until Stannis showed up at her apartment, stiff and formal. She had thought he’d come to tell her about Arya, about how the pacific had swallowed up another part of her family but he offered her a job instead. It was one she wasn’t qualified or prepared for but that didn’t seem to matter as much as her name did. 

Since the battle in San Francisco the Stark name had become legendary, synonymous with loyalty and honor. She was brought in to ease questions about the program, concerns over where it was going. At first, it had been mostly a figurehead position until the Kajui broke through the seawall in Australia, and then the whole world became suddenly interested in the jaeger program again.

When Sansa looks up again Jon is winding his way through the crowded mess hall towards her. He hesitates before her and for a moment she thinks he’s going to walk away but then he sets his tray down heavily. He tries to offer her a smile but he looks tired more than anything. She can tell he’s debating on what to say or ask her. She itches with the temptation to save him the anxiety and open the conversation for him but she remains silent. 

“This was the last place I expected to see you,” he tells her finally once the silence has moved from awkward to unbearable.

“Stannis recruited me for civilian oversight.” 

Sansa forces herself to hold his gaze for several seconds before she allows herself to look back down at the paperwork in front of her. 

“After all, who would the world trust more than honorable Ned Stark’s daughter to make sure the military is keeping their promises?” She knows she sounds bitter, angrier than she should. Despite what Arya might have said about her once, Sansa Stark is nothing if not practical. She is under no illusion as to what this job means. It keeps Rickon and Bran fed and cared for, keeps them safe 500 miles inland.

“Arya?”

“Still in the brig,” she says looking up and for a moment, time falls away from them and they share a brief, real smile. “I think the only reason Stannis hasn’t thrown her out of the program is dad…well that and she’s probably the best jaeger pilot we’ve got. “

“I didn’t realize Arya enlisted,” Jon says with a frown and it takes all of Sansa’s restraint not to come back with a cutting remark. He disappeared after Robb died, like a ghost in the night. He probably doesn’t even know about her mother or Theon she realizes.

“Arya was desperate for the chance to be like Robb and Dad. Like you,” Sansa says and even though it’s the truth, Sansa feels a brief, small scissor of pain pass through her at the grief and regret that overtakes Jon’s face.

—

The neural handshake is solid, just like Sansa knew it would be. She can’t help the small smile that turns the edges of her lips up. Arya and Jon may not share blood, but their history of memories and the familial bond that developed between them is strong. Beside her, Stannis makes a grunt of satisfaction. He’ll never tell her she was right but all that Sansa cares about is the expression of relief, of pure joy on her sister’s face as they put Winterfell through her paces. Arya and Jon move in synch and although Sansa can’t hear what they say she can see Jon’s expression lighten with laughter on the grainy footage.

“They’re a good match. It looks like Jon hasn’t lost his touch,” Samwell tells her with a grin, just before the blare of klaxon sounds.

Sansa starts and beside her Stannis straightens.

“They’re out of alignment,” Samwell says. “Jon, can you hear me? Shit,” he says. “Jon? Jon? You need to get back into alignment. Now.”

At first, Sansa doesn’t understand what’s happening but then the whole room shakes and suddenly Winterfell lurches off the platform, moving forward unsteadily.

There is a burst of static and then Jon’s voice. “She’s following the rabbit, she’s following the rabbit,” he says and the fear in his voice cuts through Sansa, sharp and hot.

“Stop the test,” Stannis orders but it’s too late. The dull hum of the plasma cannon powering up throws the entire control room into a frenzy and it is all Sansa can do to watch as everything crumbles around her.

\--

Sansa knows Stannis is seething, angry beyond measure but his face is a mask of calm. He doesn’t raise his voice once during their whole conversation. Sansa watches the tendon in his cheek jump when his gaze settles on Jon and Arya. 

"We will find you a suitable co-pilot," he tells Jon after a moment of silence.

The explosion of violence she expects from Arya, the sharp anger that lives within her sister does not come. Beside her Arya is silent, jaw clenched and face awash with shame and resentment. Sansa knows she’s thinking of their father and Robb. This was meant to be her birthright, her crowning victory after years of preparation and the blood and sweat she’s poured into the simulations and training. 

The desire to comfort or soothe her sister is strong, but Sansa knows it would be unwelcome, a sign of weakness. Instead, she shifts in her seat, letting her knee brush Arya's. The contact is brief but Arya breathes out harshly, jaw loosening.

“Arya, we will discuss your reassignment tomorrow,” Stannis says.

When Sansa looks to Jon he turns sharply from her. Say something, she thinks, defend her, tell him no, but Jon says nothing. Instead, he stares at the ground, his whole body rigid and tight.

"You are dismissed," he tells them.

Jon and Arya rise in tandem, right hand at their temples in a salute before they leave, but Sansa remains in her seat. 

When the door shuts behind them Stannis takes a seat and directs his gaze at Sansa. 

“Not a word from you,” he says. “You had your chance and they failed.”

“I’m aware of that as I was in the room,” Sansa reminds him, unable to keep the anger from her tone. “But we have another problem,” she tells him, sliding her tablet across the table to him. 

It’s queued up to the front page of The City Watch tabloid. _Arya Stark Takes Up Her Father’s Mantle With Co-Pilot Jon Snow._ Below that headline is a grainy photo of Jon and Arya hugging on the helipad.

“I am not sure how that tattle rag somehow managed to get footage from the dome. Arya and Jon’s pictures are popping on all the social media sites; CNN even has it on their front page. “ She tells him, which at the moment probably isn’t exactly true but it will be before the day is out.

She made sure of that. 

Sansa doesn’t even want to think about what this favor will cost her. Petyr was more than happy to incur debt from her when she provided him the pictures and asked him to run the story. 

“The world is excited to see Ned Stark’s daughter defending the people again. We will have to work fast,” she says with a well-placed, tired sigh. “We’ll have to control the damage since Arya won’t be with Jon. They’ll be questions of course. We’ll have to come up with a story. Maybe an injury?” She suggests because she knows Stannis is many things but he’s not a liar. 

The tendon in his cheek is jumping again and his expression is thunderous. “I want to know who leaked this,” he tells her quietly.

“And we will,” she says, hoping to god that Samwell Tarly is every bit the tech wizard they say he is because she’s just bet her career on him covering her tracks well enough. “But we need to focus on the immediate problem first.” 

Sansa knows it’s going to be a long night. Petyr was just the first part of her plan. How she maneuvers the conversation with Stannis the rest of the night will decide if her gamble was worth it. 

“I’ll get my father’s scotch,” she tells him, steeling herself for what’s ahead. 

-

Sansa wakes up with a blinding headache and the sour taste of whisky in her mouth when Arya jumps on the narrow bunk they call a bed, shrieking in delight. 

“I’m reinstated, Sansa!” she cries and Sansa smiles, lets herself get pulled into one of Arya’s rare hugs.

“That’s great. Now please, go celebrate somewhere that isn’t my room,” Sansa says, throwing her arm over her face as she tries valiantly not to throw up. 

-

Jon is watching her carefully, the expression on his face unreadable over breakfast.

“Petyr Baelish was a friend of your mother’s wasn’t he?” he asks and Sansa stills, fork hovering over her eggs. She knows she must look ridiculous, mouth agape as her hung-over brain tries to catch up with the conversation. 

The lie is on the tip of her tongue but instead, she whispers, “you can’t tell Arya.” 

Jon huffs out a laugh, mouth widening into a smile that transforms his brooding face into something handsome. “Sansa Stark,” he says with amusement, “you’re full of surprises.”

**Author's Note:**

> I started this story several years ago as a drabble and recently picked it back up to finish it. This may turn into a longer series. I am always look for good tumblr prompts so feel free to drop by and say hi! You can find me under river_soul.


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